Tag: phone sex

sex blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I’ve always been a fan of the taboo and the forbidden. That’s how the idea for “OnlyFucks” was born. OnlyFucks is a naughty bookstore where anything goes and sex is always on the table. My mind is a playground of naughty thoughts and ideas, and I know I need an outlet for all that pent-up energy. What’s better than opening a business that incorporates all of my favorite things? It’s okay, baby. I can already see the curiosity in your eyes, and I know you have questions! And I’m more than happy to answer them for you!

I want OnlyFucks to be a place where people can come and explore their wildest fantasies without judgment. Where they can let loose and have some fun. The store will be filled with books and toys that cater to every kink and fetish. From bondage and discipline to exhibitionism and voyeurism, there will be something for everyone. And if someone can’t find what they’re looking for, they can always ask one of our knowledgeable and experienced staff members for help. All of whom will be dressed in their finest lingerie and leather, of course!

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masturbation blog

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

My usual detached composure faltered the moment he introduced himself. “Good evening, I’m Liam, and I’ll be your server tonight.” “Stella,” I managed, my voice a little huskier than I intended. “Nice to meet you, Liam.” He was tall, with a lean build that stretched the fabric of his black uniform a little too perfectly across his chest and shoulders.

There was a spark, a subtle flirtation in his gaze that mirrored my own. I found myself lingering over my order, asking unnecessary questions about the drink list, just to keep him at the table for a few moments longer. I’d catch his eye from across the room, and he’d offer a quick, knowing smile before attending to another table. It was maddening and exhilarating all at once.

He talked about the specials with a passion that made me want to order everything, even the things I didn’t usually like. His hands, as he poured my drink, were long and elegant, with just a hint of muscle. My imagination ran wild, painting scenarios that had no business existing in a crowded public restaurant. He was just doing his job, I reminded myself, but my body wasn’t listening. My pussy was throbbing. A delicious, unbearable ache that could only be soothed by one thing…Liam’s cock.

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abdl blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

They call my place “The Sanctuary,” though some regulars lovingly whisper “Cory’s Corner of Bliss.” This isn’t your typical chain spa with weird music and generic oils. My space is more intimate, filled with the scent of sandalwood and a quiet hum of understanding. My clients, mostly men in their late 30s and beyond, come here for something more specific. Something they can’t find just anywhere.

My standard massage is good, really good. I’ve got hands that can melt knots you didn’t even know you had. But what truly sets me apart, what brings them back, is the “Comfort Care” add-on. It’s my little secret, a unique service that caters to a very particular kind of release. When a client opts for Comfort Care, I see their eyes light up a little, a mix of apprehension and quiet longing. That’s when I bring out the softest, thickest of adult diapers. It’s never forced, always an offered choice, explained delicately as a way to fully surrender, to shed the burdens of adulthood, even just for an hour.

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pantyhose blog

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I met Mike at a private party, where I was working as a professional tease. He was a handsome man, with dark eyes that held an intensity I found irresistible. I was wearing a sheer black negligee that left little to the imagination, and beneath it, a pair of silky black pantyhose. I could see the desire burning in his eyes as I strutted towards him, my hips swaying seductively. “Do you like what you see?” I asked, running my hands over my curves.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving my body. I laughed softly, then reached out and grabbed his hand, placing it on my thigh. “Feel that?” I whispered, as his fingers traced the delicate pattern of the pantyhose. “That’s what you’ve been craving, isn’t it?” He nodded again. I could feel his dick straining against his pants, and I knew I had him right where I wanted him. After leading him to an oversized lounge chair, I pushed him down onto it and climbed on top of him. I straddled his waist, my pussy just inches from his throbbing cock.

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domme

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Bonjour! Je suis Stella, your newest Candy Girl! I want to tell you about a call I did with my latest victim, a man named Ethan. He was on the other end of the line, moaning loudly as he listened to my commands. “Ethan,” I purred, my voice dripping with a mix of authority and desire. “Are you ready to be punished?” He stuttered, his voice was shaking with anticipation. “Y-yes, Stella.”

“Good boy,” I cooed, my fingers tracing the curve of my full lips. “Now, I want you to take off all your clothes. I want you to feel the cool air against your skin. Can you do that for me?” He hesitated, but I could hear the rustling of fabric over the phone as he took off his shirt and underpants. “I…I’m naked, Stella.” He said, nervously. “Mmm, good,” I hummed, my hand drifting down to the hem of my silk robe. “Now, I want you to touch yourself. Imagine it’s my hand on your dick, stroking you slowly.”

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A Broken Key

Posted 2 months ago by Belle

A Broken Key

Belle 1844-332-2639 X 444

The key around my neck bounced into my tits with every thrust of the massive cock stretching me open. I was on my knees, facing my chastity cuck who begged to be unlocked. “Let me stroke it a little. Fuck, Belle, I’m begging. Please, unlock my cage! It hurts so bad.” The sound of his voice was so fucking annoying. All I wanted to focus on was the pleasure building in my core from the deep pounding I was taking.

“If it will shut him up, give him the key.” The bull behind me groaned. Obviously sick of hearing the loser’s constant whining as well. I gripped the chain and snatched it from my neck, tossing the key to the naked loser in the cuck chair beside the bed.

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findom blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Corey was already kneeling when I walked into the living room, a soft, almost imperceptible tremor running through his body. He was dressed precisely as I’d instructed: an old, faded t-shirt that was clearly too small for him, barely covering the lacy bra I’d made him wear underneath. His hair, usually neatly styled, was a mess, indicating he’d spent the morning cleaning my apartment, just as I’d ordered.

“Good morning, little piggy,” I purred, settling onto the plush velvet armchair opposite him. He swallowed hard, his eyes – wide and pleading – fixed on my designer slippers. “Good morning, Mistress.” His voice was raspy, laced with a familiar mix of shame and fervent eagerness. It was a sound I’d grown to enjoy, the sound of a man willingly surrendering his power, his dignity, his very livelihood. “Such a compliant sissyboy, aren’t you?” I let the words hang in the air, watching him flinch slightly, then visibly melt into the humiliation. “Have you been a good little finsub and followed my instructions to the letter?”

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butt

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

Some guys just really like my butt. I know, I know. It’s a common thing, maybe even a cliché, BUTT…there are levels to it, aren’t there? And then there was him. HIM. Most guys, they like the curve, the shape, the way it looks in a tight pair of jeans or a silk dress. Standard appreciation. But this one? He was an ass man with a very particular vision.

He wanted me to dress up. Not for a party, not for a night out. Just for him, and for the specific fantasy he’d crafted in his mind. A patent black catsuit. Gleaming. And patent black stiletto boots, so high they practically dared me to fall. My nails, already long, were sharpened and painted a deep, dangerous crimson. When I looked in the mirror, I wasn’t just a woman in an outfit; I was a creature. A typical superhero villainess, absolutely, from the sharp lines of the suit to the predacious gleam in my own eyes. And I felt like one, too. Powerful. Unattainable. Menacing, even.

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Rachel 1*844*332*2639 Ext 457

It was lingerie night at work. When I first started, my lingerie was more modest than the other girls. I couldn’t believe how little they wore. Some literally wear the skimpiest bras and g-strings. But now I’m basically the same. On this particular night I wore a red bra, and a red g-string with a fitted, stretchy, red lace little dress over them. It barely covered my butt. But you could see everything right through it anyway. And I wore red fishnet thigh high stockings that had red bows on them. I kept catching everyone starring at my ass. It was so busy. I was just trying to keep up with my tables. Then all of a sudden, I noticed that one of my dad’s best friends was there. I wanted to run to the back and hide. But it was too late. He had already seen me. I was mortified. That was exactly what I was afraid of happening. He went to church with us all of my life. He’s married with kids that are now grown. I just knew he was going to be disappointed in me and go tell my dad. But why was he here?

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gooner

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was on the laptop in lingerie, as usual. Today’s appointment had just logged on. He wasn’t anything special, not like some of the others who tried to project an air of mystery or charm. This one was just average. Beige. The kind of man you’d pass on the street and forget instantly. He called himself “Braveheart’ in the chat, which felt ironic given how timid his actual keystrokes felt. He wasn’t a high roller, but consistent. Enough to make the time worthwhile. He didn’t want much in terms of conversation, and the pictures he requested were merely a precursor, an hors d’oeuvre to the real meal.

What he truly craved, what he paid for, were the words. Not just any words, but those specific phrases, strung together just so, meticulously crafted and delivered with a precise cadence. The ones that unlocked something in him, a sort of mental key turning in a lock. “Get worse, loser.” I’d type them out because I didn’t need to see his face to know what was happening on his end. The slight delays in his replies,

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